What Are You Doing New Year's?
by CinnamonFaerie
Summary: It's the season for romance...but how do you make that special in Vegas? GregSara
1. Chapter 1

A/N: This is in response to a challenge where Sara dreams of a marriage proposal under the moonlight. Greg decides to do so on the night of the CSI Christmas party.

Rating: T

Disclaimer: If I owned anything, would I be here?

"Tell me again why we're here playing tourist?" Sara asked the man who had his fingers entwined in hers, as they made their way to the lobby of the Treasure Island hotel.

Cocking an eyebrow, he told her "I never said in the first place. I mean really. You're almost as bad as Mia about having no sense of adventure."

She blinked. "Being with you is adventure enough. Isn't it?"

"You just saved yourself from sleeping on the couch tonight."

"Greg, you couldn't stay mad if you wanted to. Besides, you'd be on your knees begging me to come back to bed after five minutes anyway." They both laughed, knowing her comment was true.

Not quite a year ago, he couldn't believe his luck when Sara finally said yes to going on a date with him. Almost six whole years of persistance had paid off and he couldn't be happier. Happier included her moving in with him shortly after since that's where she practically lived as it was. He could, but he wasn't sure if she was ready to go down that particular road yet.

They had come straight from work after pulling a double to close a grueling case where a teenage girl had killed her parents in a fit of rage. So a night of mindless fun on the town was definitely in order.

She couldn't stop staring at him tonight. But she knew that was always a good thing. His ever-changing hair was once again spiked in all directions with bleach blonde tips. He looked good enough to eat in a navy blue pinstriped button-up shirt over a tshirt, his favorite black leather jacket, and jeans that were tight enough in all the right places.

The show he wanted to take her to, Sirens of Treasure Island, was standing room only. He moved to stand behind her, pressing the full length of his body into her. Wrapping his arms around her waist, he rested his chin on her shoulder and inhaled the trace scent of her sunflower shampoo that he loved.

"Greg, stop!" she whispered, not wanting him to stop at all, as he nipped her earlobe playfully.

He wasn't one to be defeated so easily. His fingers found the hem of her shirt and slipped underneath to dance across the bare skin of her belly. If she was getting a thrill from this mild taste of exhibitionism, she could only imagine his reaction. But she could certainly feel it.

The stageshow had finished and they made their way to the tropical bar known as Kahunaville where Greg had dinner reservations waiting. Sara smiled wistfully as a newly wedded couple exited the wedding chapel. He noticed this and made a mental post-it for future reference.

"I've always thought it would be so romantic to be proposed to under the moonlight. Around here though, I think you'd have to go to Pahrump or Pioche for that," recalling the two remote areas they had gone during case investigations. "But I could never do the drive thru thing like Warrick. Especially after that one case Nick and I had a couple years ago with Elvis from Area 51."

Greg laughed at her recollection as she shuddered in memory. His final proficiency test that he failed was taken during the same time, and the labrats' gossip mill had a heyday with both cases. But Nick and Sara's hadn't hurt as bad as his did.

"Then again I've never really pictured myself as the marrying type. A girl can dream though."

Chewing thoughtfully on his pina colada chicken, the gears in his mind started to turn, which could be a good or bad thing depending on how you look at it.

_"Sara baby, we're gonna make a marrying woman out of you yet. We just have to figure out how, when and where. And pray the rest of team can help with that because I don't have a clue."_


	2. Chapter 2

_Why do these things have to be so hard? People have been doing this since the dawn of time so it must come natural to someone. Yeah right._

He was jarred from his thoughts as he slammed on the brakes to avoid a head-on collision with a Ford Mustang that was speeding out of the high school parking lot. He parked his Jetta and began his search for the gymnasium where he was to make his first appearance as a dance chaperone, since Catherine was preoccupied with Warrick investigating a multiple homicide and thus couldn't do the honors herself.

Why did he agree to this? He couldn't remember. But he figured it suited him better than Hodges who would have traumatized everyone in mere seconds.

"Hey Uncle Greg!"

He flashed his famous million-dollar grin at the group of giggling girls who were eyeing him, one of which he'd recognize anywhere.

"That's your uncle? No way! He's too hot."

"I bet he's gay. He has to be since all the hot single ones are."

When the music started, his mind drifted back to his current predicament and what do about it.

He didn't want to do the drive thru wedding either, which was pretty much the only option available in the Vegas city limits. Neither of them were religious so a church was out of the question. The courthouse was so cold and impersonal and would be like getting married at work. Well, it would be, come to think of it. So what did that leave? He seemed to recall something one of his cousins mentioned about having to plan everything two years in advance. Crazy. No wonder Vegas was home to drive thru weddings. He also didn't have the slightest notion how to propose to Sara either, which was his first and foremost dilemma. He figured it better to work these things out in order. Greg wanted the proposal to be something she'd never forget, but what would that be? Dinner under the stars? That sounded good to him but he didn't know of anywhere to do that.

"Hey sexy."

He felt a hot breath on his neck, which caused him to jump. Glancing over at the offender, he saw that it was one of Lindsey's friends he'd "met" earlier. A daring one at that.

"You know, I can have you arrested for propositioning a law enforcement official. Especially since you're underage."

"Ooh, kinky," she purred at him.

Greg rolled his eyes. Hodges would be getting this assignment next time, and everytime after that. Or he and Ecklie could take turns.

Shift hadn't officially started yet, and wouldn't for another ten minutes at least, so most everyone on the nightshift ventured in to steal a cup of his Blue Hawaiian coffee he had just brewed. Greg fidgeted on the couch in the breakroom, thumbing through a magazine he had found stuffed between the cushions.  
He had asked Brass and Archie to make an appearance as assignments were handed out, hoping maybe they could help. He thanked his lucky stars that Sara was at a conference in California this particular weekend. That didn't quell his nerves however. And the coffee was making him even more hyper, if that was possible.

"Thanks, guys, for coming in. I have a problem I need your help with."

"What, you need a bodyguard to fend off the jailbait who find you so irresistable? Never thought I'd see the day."

The others couldn't control their laughter at the latest piece of gossip circulating the lab regarding last night's events. Grissom merely raised a brow.

"Very funny, Stokes. Seriously. I need your help. I want to propose to Sara but I don't know how to do that."

"You're on your own there, buddy," Warrick quipped. A glare from Greg silenced his chuckles.

"So it needs to romantic, special. It has to include moonlight. I don't know of anything that would fit that around here. Brass, I was thinking maybe you could arrange for the Christmas party to be held like out of town someplace and it could be done there."

His eyes shifted to each CSI as they grinned and exchanged glances amongst themselves. Why did he even bring this up? He knew they'd make fun of him for asking and they did. So why did he? Because he knew as well as anyone that his mouth ran when he got nervous and this was no exception.

"Here's the ring if you want to see it. If you think that will inspire you."

Greg pulled a black velvet box out of his pants pocket and thrust it nervously at the person closest to him, who happened to be Archie. Why he still had it in his pocket and not his locker, he didn't know. But he had purchased it on the way to work and he supposed he hadn't gotten around to doing so at the moment.

Archie carefully opened the box and let out a low whistle. "Blam..."

The box was passed around the circle, accompanied by whistles and congratulations from each of his coworkers. Resting on the black velvet pillow was a delicate platinum filigree ring that looked like an antique reproduction. In the center was princess-cut solitare diamond.

Grissom piped up with the first recommendation. "We could go to the planetarium. I don't know if they do parties though."

Catherine shook her head and laughed. "I've heard good things about that paddlewheel cruiseship out on Lake Mead. They do dinner under the stars. That remote enough for you?"

"Thanks, Cath. Anyone else?" Everyone exchanged glances, shrugging. "Cruiseship it is then. This should be interesting."

"Good luck, bro." Archie grinned and slapped Greg's back before returning to the A/V lab.

With that, Brass headed to his office to make a few calls involving a party that no one would be sure to forget anytime soon.


	3. Chapter 3

The following week had both Greg and Sara on a search for something suitable to wear to the CSI Christmas party. He had a fair share of dress shirts and pants in his closet but nothing that he considered to be black tie. Sara, on the other hand, didn't own a single dress, casual or otherwise. She wondered why this year's party was so formal, whereas the ones in years past she could have gotten away with a dressy shirt and slacks. Upon learning this, Catherine had dragged her on a shopping spree. To her surprise, she realized she liked being pampered like this, although she wasn't about to make a habit of it anytime soon.

The dress that Catherine had convinced her to buy was a black satin strapless gown that hugged every curve. Hiking up her skirt so as not to trip over it as she walked into the bathroom, she asked, "Greg, can you zip me up please?"

Sara knew but never understood why it took him so much longer to get ready to go anywhere. Today was no exception. He was still primping himself, fussing over his hair, no doubt. Then again, she wouldn't change anything about him for the world. Only when he turned around to help her did they really notice each other.

Greg was rendered speechless. He'd never seen Sara in any dress. He'd be willing to bet that no one else had either. He loved what he saw and the fact that he was the first to lay eyes on her like this.

She, in turn, blinked in horror or disbelief. She wasn't sure which but figured that either would apply. His spiked hair with or without the bleach blonde didn't faze her in the least. But this took the cake. Standing in front of her, wearing only a towel wrapped around his waist was someone who looked like her boyfriend but she wasn't completely sure. This doppleganger had blue hair with what appeared to be silver glitter.

"What? If you're gonna be a Grinch, I bet Hodges would love to have you as his date." He stole a quick kiss from her before she could retort. "Turn around."

As soon as he had her dress zipped and she had stepped into her black satin strappy heels, she finished up getting herself ready. She applied lipstick and fastened her necklace. Greg, meanwhile, had finally gotten dressed and looked stunning in a tux, with a black shirt instead of the typical white.

An hour later, with the sun setting over the mountains, days and nightshift CSIs gathered in the foyer of the paddlewheel ship, enjoying pre-dinner cocktails and appetizers.

Brass chuckled, "You're certainly looking festive tonight, Greg. How did the future Mrs. let you out of the house looking like that?"

"Yeah, well, I have my ways."

"Poor Sara," Nick commented. "So...nervous?"

"Don't insult me. Nervous is for people who don't know what they're doing."

"He's nervous," Nick and Brass both laughed.

When dinner was announced, the group found their seats on the upper deck which was set up as the dining area. Greg did his best to hide his nerves. Wiping his hands on his pants, he swore they were clammy. His tie felt like it was strangling him. And was it just him or did the temperature rise past the boiling point all of a sudden? Why wouldn't anyone point out the beads of sweat on his forehead? He didn't miss their supportive grins however.

_Stop it, Sanders. You can do this._

He chatted with Archie and Nick, seated to his left. Glancing over occasionally, he gave Grissom a timid smile.

_Who are you kidding? Grissom is the last person on the planet, ok the next to the last person, who is going to be able to make any of this run smoother. Just breathe. In, out, in, out... I probably should take her someplace private and do this but I already gave the ring to the waitress so I can't take it back from her without causing a scene, which is the last thing I need. _

Taking a large swig of beer, Greg became aware of his surroundings again as a dessert plate was set in front of him. His attention wasn't focused on the slice of red velvet-peppermint cake with a side of peppermint ice cream in front of him. He turned to Sara and noticed her confused look, as her dessert plate was much larger than everyone else's and also had a small wrapped box resting on one edge.

_Breathe. What's the worst she can say? Too late now to be nervous._

He leaned over and whispered in her ear, "Open the gift first, darling."

She raised a brow but complied with his request, as all eyes at the table were fixed on her. Sara was never one to rip off packaging in a mad rush, partly due to the fact that she had been forced to go without such pleasantries when she was younger. And as an adult, it only made sense to savor the moment.

She glanced at him questioningly when she saw the black velvet box. Slowly lifting the lid, she caught her breath as she saw what lay inside. Was this a dream? Was it real? It certainly felt real.

"Sara?"

Her lips twitched as she looked over at him. He took the box from her hand and pulled out the ring, placing it on her finger.

"Will you..."

His words were cut off as she held his face in her hands, kissing him hungrily.

"That looks like a yes," Archie grinned, as he applauded for the lovers who were lost in their own world. It didn't take long at all until the entire crimelab had joined in with him.

When they came up for air, she whispered, "Thank you, Greg. And you even provided the moonlight I wanted."

He smiled and nodded. Then her eyes widened in realization.

"This is why Brass said we needed to dress up."

"Not very observant for a CSI, are you?" he teased, and the others joined in laughing with him.

Her lips pursed into a grin.

Only Grissom had noticed that Catherine left the table and made her way to the disc jockey who had been providing Christmas music during dinner and had allowed her to make the announcement.

"This song is for our lovebirds Greg and Sara. May you have many happy years together. No one is more deserving of each other than you two."

Greg shrugged his shoulders at Sara, implying that he had no part in Catherine's scheme. But he stood and held out his hand for her to join him. She wrapped her arms tight around him as they danced to the music, again immersing themselves in their own world. Tonight she wanted the universe to see how much she adored this crazy CSI.

_**When you said yesterday that it's nearly Christmas**_

_**What did I want **_

_**And I thought just love me**_

_**That's what I want for Christmas**_

_**When I walk through a room, let them see you need me**_

_**Walk through a room, let them see you love me**_

_**That's what I want for Christmas**_

_**Anyone can wish for all the trinkets in the window**_

_**Some can even buy the things they see**_

_**But the presents that I want you'll never find in any window**_

_**Bring me love and bring it just for me**_

_**When you come home at night**_

_**Take me in your arms and say you love me**_

_**Kiss me and say you love me**_

_**That's what I want for Christmas**_

Kissing his lips softly, she whispered, "I love you."

"So, Mrs. Sanders...can I call you that now?" She smirked. "What are you doing New Year's Eve?"

"What do you have in mind, Mr. Sanders?"

"Well, we have a wedding to plan, don't we? Seems like a perfect time to do it."

She murmured her approval as she kissed him. This was indeed the best Christmas she'd had thus far. Christmas Day wasn't for another week, but she couldn't imagine anything better than this.

A/N: Don't worry, I'm not done with the story yet. The song belongs to Shedaisy. And I still don't own anything.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: I started to write something that would have gone between this and the previous chapter, but everything I wrote I didn't like how it came out no matter how I did it so I just went ahead with this one. I can't write detailed smut so you'll have to live with this. Also had a comically freaky experience while writing this. But apparantly TPTB had "The Geeks Get the Girls" on repeat on the radio the entire time which shouldn't have happened logically but I'm not complaining. So maybe that's supposed to be their theme song? Dunno. Anyway, enjoy. And again, there's still more to come so no worries there.

* * *

"Catherine, I can't do this."

Sara wrung her hands and nervously pressed out non-existant wrinkles from her dress.

"Nonsense. The minute you see his face, everything and everyone else will disappear." She smiled reassuringly, even though Sara couldn't see her.

Pulling the laces of the corset tight, she tied a double knot. Then she walked around to face Sara, to see what was to be done with her hair and makeup. Sara's brunette tresses were pulled into a sleek updo. Smokey eyeshadow and burgundy lipstick finshed the look.

She hadn't smoked in years, kicking the habit upon beginning her career at the LVPD. But she was definitely craving one right now to calm her nerves. There was no reason she should be nervous but she couldn't help it nonetheless.

As Catherine handed her the bouquet of red roses, she smiled. "Let's get this show on the road."

* * *

The ceremony was to be held in an open courtyard under the stars. Sara had no family and Greg's only family, Papa Olaf, wasn't able to travel in old age but he had sent his congratulations. The entire Criminalistics department had been invited but most of the days had declined in order to cover for the nightshift.

The location was a resort village in Henderson. Sara had seen the place from the road when she and Warrick were driving back to Vegas from a case in Boulder City, and had insisted that Greg see it. There were trees everywhere outside covered with clear lights, which added to the romance.

Greg stood near the altar area, fidgeting.

"Hey man, calm down." Nick laughed.

"Easy for you to say."

Once everyone was seated, Catherine entered as the maid of honor. Of course, everyone stood when Sara entered, her arm linked with Brass's.

_No need to be nervous. See? Cath was right. _

She smiled at Greg's shit-eating grin the entire time.

"By the power vested in me by the state of Nevada, I pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride."

Laughter ensued as Greg didn't waste any time kissing her.

To be honest, she had never in a million years dreamed of being Greg's wife. But now that she was, she'd never take it back for anything.

* * *

Greg, being Greg, pulled Sara onto the outdoor skating rink for their first dance after dinner.

Brass and Grissom, each holding a drink in hand, watched them like the father figures they were. Lindsey came over and pulled Grissom away to dance with her.

Holding him tight, Sara kissed Greg softly and whispered, "You know the only thing that would make this night more perfect? If it could snow here."

"Is that...? That's not..."

"It is." Bobby was just as confused as Hodges. But it was indeed snowing, thanks to Sara's prayers.

There were also fireworks at midnight to ring in the new year. Shortly after, the newlyweds slipped away to their hotel room as the others partied the rest of the night.

* * *

Sara bit her lip as Greg hungrily kissed every inch of her exposed neck and shoulders.

"Slow down, love. I'm not going anywhere."

Lifting one side of her skirt, he stroked her bare thigh. Fumbling with the knot of her dress, he instead unfastened the skirt and let it fall into a puddle at their feet, leaving her only in the corset top and her lace boyshort panties.

Did her eyes deceive her or was he really nervous? She'd lived with him for less than a year and been his lover for the same amount of time, and yet here he was acting like a virgin. She also remembered back to the time when they were investigating two dead college lovers and he, in so many words, had admitted that he wasn't near as experienced as she was. Sara knew he liked it rough and that's what she would give him, a night to remember.

When they were both spent, Greg fought to keep his eyes open. Sleep finally won out. She wiggled out of his arm to blow out the candles and then snuggled up to him again, kissing his lips softly. "Love you, Greg," she whispered.


	5. Chapter 5

Sara hated flying. She couldn't understand how anyone could sleep on a flight, never mind that Greg was out cold, resting his head on her shoulder while she flipped restlessly through the channels of the in-flight television. The trashy romance novel she brought to read had long since bored her, not that she was one to read that kind of thing anyway. In addition, she had lost all feeling in the lower half of her body.

What seemed an eternity later, they settled into their hotel suite. She stood out on the balcony admiring the view when Greg came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist, kissing her neck softly. Palm trees swayed in the breeze and white sand beaches stretched out into clear turquoise waters. It didn't get any better than this, did it?

The only thing she wasn't looking forward to was the temporary adjustment of her biological clock. Being an insomniac on the night shift was one thing, although Greg had helped her overcome that over the last year. But being an insomniac in an area where nightlife was a rare occurance was something else. But she was sure that between the two of them, they could easily come up with fun creative ways to solve that dilemma.

Their honeymoon in Maui consisted of relaxing in the beautiful scenery and lounging on the beach. Both were more than happy for a reprieve from their hectic everyday lives in the city that never sleeps. They each had several weeks of vacation time that had never been used, and even Ecklie had insisted that they take at least five days off, if not an entire week.

* * *

Their second day on the island, Greg decided he was going to teach his new wife how to surf.

"Every California girl knows how to surf. You'll love it."

She was a bit scared of being that far out in the ocean, but what the hell? You only live once so live it up while you can, right? Besides, the waters here were much safer than off the coast of San Francisco where she was from.

Sara was surprised they made it to the surf rental shop before the place closed. Hawaii ran on island time which worked out for them. She couldn't complain either when Greg gave her a full show while they got ready. Although he had mentioned that maybe they should skip it and have fun in the hotel room all day instead.

To her surprise, Sara found surfing rather easy to learn and she loved the experience. However that night, she was sore and tired, having used muscles she didn't know she had.

* * *

Sipping her pina colada from a coconut shell on her stomach on the beach, Sara closed her eyes and moaned in contentment as Greg rubbed suntan oil onto her backside. His fingers alternated pressure on her skin from light brushes to kneading her muscles.

"Mmmm... Is this where the story of your oil fetish comes from?" she teased him

He stopped mid-stroke. "You make it sound like I'm some kinky pervert. What other lies has Cath told you?"

"You mean you aren't? Damn."

Greg laughed. "Don't let anyone at the lab hear that about Sara Sidle, straight-laced workaholic CSI. They'll have a field day with that one."

She looked up at him, her glare hidden by her sunglasses.

* * *

Of course all good things must come to an end sometime. On the flight home, Greg had slept while Sara stayed awake, and in the taxi to their apartment, he was wide awake while she slept. As they pulled into the parking lot, she yawned as he nudged her awake. Dragging her suitcase behind her, she said, "Never thought I'd be so happy to see this place."

Greg rolled his eyes, smiling, and followed her inside.

The annoying sound of the telephone woke her from her jet-lagged slumber. She tried to ignore it but it wouldn't go away. Sighing, she reached over Greg's body to the phone on his nightstand and rested her head on his chest as she answered.

"Sandle."

"Nice to meet you, Mrs. Sandle. Listen, I hate to be the one to break up the lovefest there but we have a multiple 419 at the Palms and we need both of you to help Nick process the scene whenever you can get there."

"Sure thing, Jim. We'll be right there."

It took Sara a few minutes to wake up completely. When she did, she realized she had fallen asleep in her clothes and had even been too exhausted to strip.

When they reached the casino hotel, they found Nick in the penthouse suite, already photographing evidence. Sara had made her way to begin processing the bathroom.

Glancing up from his work, he asked, "So how was the honeymoon?"

"It was great. A week of surfing, laying on the beach drinking cocktails out of a coconut. And Sara was starting to get homesick."

Nick laughed. "Typical."

"But I did manage to get some sand to analyze at the lab."

"Yeah I remember you wanting Gris to pay for that research. Looks like our John Doe had quite the orgy going on. Home sweet home, huh?" he smirked as he looked up at the younger CSI who returned the grin.


	6. Chapter 6

Sara spent the early part of her first break fighting off another wave of nausea. At least she still didn't have the headache from the evening commute to work. She had never been sick like this that she could recall. When she had been sick in the past, she had always found a way to do her job nonetheless. Come to think of it, was it natural to be like this for the past two days already? She wasn't sure but she did know that she was going to resign to paperwork this shift, even if it killed her.

After scrounging in the cabinets for Pepto Bismol tablets, she got another water bottle from the vending machine and headed to the conference room to tackle cold cases for the next several hours.

* * *

The only things Greg dreaded more than spending time in the Trace lab were child abuse/neglect cases and burn victims. Just his luck, he had no choice but to deal with two of the three. Part of him wanted to march down to Grissom's office and call the man a sadist. What good would that do though? Since he knew as well as everyone that Grissom wanted his children to face their demons, not run and hide from them.

He hoped he could simply drop off the evidence bags and slip out unnoticed. Such was not the case.

"Finally decided to come back to work with the rest of us lowly rodents?"

_What the hell? _Greg blinked at him. "Just run the tests."

Hodges smirked and moved the evidence bags to the backlogged inbox as Greg made a beeline for the door. Anything to be away from this fruitcake. Maybe he would go have that chat with Papa Grissom after all.

* * *

She was starting to go crosseyed and needed to stretch her legs. The cool night air was refreshing as she paced outside the crime lab. She knew she should stop at the diner across the street for a bite to eat, but she wasn't sure if she could keep any of it down. Better safe than sorry, she figured as she headed back inside.

Sara stopped by the A/V lab before returning to her files. Greg's old habits were starting to rub off onto her. She grabbed the spare boombox that sat on the shelf and quickly flipped through Archie's cd collection, selecting a few to listen to for the duration of the shift, before settling into the conference room again.

As she sat down, water bottle in hand, she flipped open the file laying on the top of the stack as Billie Joe Armstrong's angsty lyrics filled the room, soothing her.

* * *

Where was that goddamn noise coming from? Sanders had long since given up that annoying habit of his, and the gossip mills said he was in autopsy at the moment. Hodges left his lab and followed the grating racket to its source. At least it wasn't Manson. He'd give whoever it was that much credit. On the other hand, it sounded like something Lindsey would listen to if Grissom or Catherine let her get away with it, which they probably did.

He arched his brows as he found the other Sanders poring over a stack of casefiles.

"I would have taken you for a Sinatra girl instead."

Sara looked up, startled. "Do you need something? You don't often come out of your cave without a reason."

He pursed his lips. "I was simply wondering who it might be who shares your husband's bad taste in that crap he calls music."

She wrinkled her forehead in confusion. "I don't see anyone else complaining. And for the record I don't even share his tastes."

"Well. If you need me, I'll be in my 'cave'." He gave her a half smile as he retreated from the room.

She raised her brow and shook her head as she watched him leave. Sara felt another bout of nausea hit, not nearly as strong as earlier but still noticeable. Smiling to supress her gag reflex, her mind wandered through the possibilities of what would trigger it. She didn't have food poisoning, otherwise she was sure Greg would have it too and he didn't show any signs. She didn't have the flu. Was she pregnant? She could ask Wendy in DNA to run a test, but she still wasn't sure the woman was ready to be trusted with such private information, knowing how quickly rumors spread in the lab.

* * *

She had solved two cold cases during shift. Now she just sat on the couch in the breakroom, her leather jacket draped across her lap, as she flipped through a magazine while waiting for Greg. Sara simply wanted to go home and crawl into bed for the next several hours. But they had no food left in the apartment so a trip to Walmart was in order.

As soon as they had their groceries picked out, Sara stopped by the pharmacy area at the other end of the store. She didn't know which was the most accurate so she dumped three different pregnancy tests into the cart, along with an equal number of bags of Valentine chocolates. Greg simply raised his brows, not sure what to make of the situation.

"Hey there, cutie!"

_Oh god no._ Greg knew that voice anywhere. It had been ages since he had been in high school but he was pretty sure that school hours were in session right about now.

"Greg? Who's that?"

Not turning around to face the source of the greeting, he groaned. "That's a friend of Lindsey's who I met, unfortunately, at her dance a few months ago when I was chaperoning. The girl thinks I'm available for her torture."

Sara had to grin at the absurdity of it all. "Do you want to break her heart or do you want me to?"

"Will you, please?"

She gave the girl a fake smile. "You like my husband? I also hear you're underage, and he actually likes older women so I guess that wouldn't include you. Next time, you'll be looking at jail time. Oh and Lindsey's dad is our boss by the way, and I don't think you want to be on his bad side, do you?"

Sara noticed the girl's face turn white as she sprinted off the other direction.

Turning to Greg, she said, "All taken care of."

He smiled and kissed her nose. "Thanks, love. I owe you one."

* * *

Greg had to work but Sara had the day, well night, off. She tried to sleep off the pounding headache, snuggling into his side of the bed that was still warm with his scent lingering in the sheets. However the nausea kicked in and forced her to the bathroom.

Eyeing the boxes of pregnancy tests that sat on the counter, she fought an inner battle. _Should I? Shouldn't I? What the hell? Just get it over with and see what happens. How bad can it be?_

She ripped the first box open and administered the test. Reading the directions as she waited, she hoped that the results would be positive. Even though she wasn't the best with kids, she really wanted this one with Greg, and any more that the fates decided to give them.

* * *

"You should have seen it. There was this kid flirting with Sanders and his wife scared her off with the threat of Grissom on her tail. Plus Sara bought out the place of their pregnancy tests and holiday chocolate."

Greg's eyes widened as he walked in the Trace lab to retrieve his results from the previous day.

Nick laughed at the lab tech's latest tale and turned to the dark skinned CSI standing beside him. "$50 says it was a honeymoon baby."

"God, you people have no shame." Hodges exasperated. He was only the messenger after all. "Speak of the devil. Got your results right here. Although I think the one Sara has will be much better news for you."

Greg rolled his eyes and curled his upper lip, baring his teeth. What did he ever do to deserve this punishment?


	7. Chapter 7

Greg tossed and turned on his edge of the bed, literally. He vaguely remembered when their double bed seemed almost spacious. Now, he was rationed merely a quarter of the mattress, if even that much, while the rest went to Sara and her huge full length body pillow that she recently purchased. But he figured that was merely a small price to pay since he wasn't complaining in the least about her raging hormones that made her hornier than usual in the last few weeks.

Normal people would have considered this mid-day, but to two nightshift officers, three-thirty in the afternoon was considered sleeping time if you were pulling a regular shift.

"Greg, are you awake?"

_Who was she kidding?_

He mumbled in response, eyes still closed.

"Good. I have a craving for a hot roast beef sandwich."

His eyes popped open and he rolled over to raise a brow at her. Surely aliens had to have abducted his wife and left him with this imposter, while forgetting about or ignoring her idiosyncrasies.

"Sara, you're a vegetarian."

"I'm also pregnant, if you haven't noticed."

"Ok fine." He stood up and started rummaging on the floor for his boxers and whichever pair of jeans hadn't yet made their way to the hamper. Pulling on a tshirt, he asked, "so do you want me you bring you takeout or do you plan to get dressed and go to the diner?"

"I have to work tomorrow."

"And I don't? You've gotten by for years on less sleep than anyone other than Grissom. Another night is not going to kill you."

Her lips pursed into a fine line. He did have a point. Shaking her head at him, she tossed the covers aside and changed into jeans and a short sleeved maternity top.

* * *

At the diner, she raised her brow at Greg as he was having a near-orgasm over shrimp salad. She remembered about a year or so ago when all hands were on deck investigating a case involving Old Time Vegas, and how he agonized over Grissom sending away the shrimp salad that the retired showgirl bribed them with. But he claimed the grocery store delis didn't know what good salad was.

Meanwhile Greg watched Sara in amazement. He'd heard stories about pregnant women eating for two and about bizarre cravings, and she'd had a few strange ones already but not weird enough yet to check her into a padded cell. _What could possibly make a vegetarian turn into a carnivore?_, he wondered. He'd have to ask Catherine about that one.

* * *

Sara, Warrick, Greg, and Archie all sat in the breakroom at the table.

"Gawd, ugh! That is alien!"

Archie and Warrick cringed in disgust at her mid-evening snack of Cheetos dipped in a tub of buttercream cake frosting. Greg was immersed in reading the classified section of the paper and didn't look up to see what had caught their attention.

"It can't be any worse than the grilled peanut butter and jelly she fixed for supper."

"Ew."

"Then she dragged me out of bed at 4 in the afternoon for roast beef when she doesn't even eat meat. Not that I can sleep anyway with all of 6 inches of the bed while she and her pillow boyfriend take up the rest."

The other two men laughed as her eyes narrowed.

"And do you know how hard it is to find a cotton candy flavored snowcone in this town? Or any for that matter?"

"Catherine says it's normal. What's the problem?" she shot back at him.

"I guess I don't need to mention that Nick says you remind him of Brad Pitt in Ocean's Eleven." Archie commented as Sara raised her brow. "Something about that you can't be without Sour Skittles while processing a scene. Good thing Grissom hasn't found out about that or he'll have your job."

Warrick's chair screeched against the linoleum floor as he stood to go check on the trace results he had been waiting on. "Don't kill each other, you two."

* * *

The end of shift found Sara and Greg sitting anxiously in the waiting area of the realtor's office. They took turns glancing at their watches. They had an appointment fifteen minutes ago and still no one had shown up yet. Greg stood up to ask the receptionist what was going on when an older woman finally came out to greet them.

"Mr. & Mrs. Sanders? I'm Emily Monaghan. Nice to meet you." She shook hands with both of them. "What exactly can we help you find?"

"We're interested in a two or three bedroom house or townhouse, in town of course," Sara told her.

"Let's see what's available and then go from there."

* * *

When the house tours were over and an offer was made on one, Sara was riding another sugar high, which was unusual for her. Archie had recommended the mattress store where his sister Maggie worked. They tried out various ones, commenting on each.

Greg had barely opened his mouth to ask her about the various furniture styles when he heard soft snoring behind him. He turned around to find Sara curled up on one of the feather mattresses that was the latest style, with her arm draped over her swollen belly.

He looked over at Maggie and told her "I guess we'll take that one. In a king size."


End file.
